Rhaegar's Lost Song
by Uitori
Summary: A ASOIAF/GOT AU that follows the events and consequences of Rhaegar winning the battle of the Trident instead of Robert. While this is not a new concept this is my take on possible outcomes. Rhaegar's children bear the consequences of his decisions and hold the entire realm in their grasp while he loses himself in visions of the future. The most I can say without giving it away.
1. Wake the Dragon

_The entirety of A Song of Ice and Fire and Game of Thrones is creation of George RR Martin and and D.B. and product of HBO. This story is a unique fictional derivative of the original work written by an ASOIAF/GOT enthusiast._

Rated: M

Rhaegar's Lost Song

Chapter 1

Wake the Dragon

His room dark and silent and still with the peace of slumber before the clink of locks and turn of knobs happened at his chamber door. A sliver of red light waxed across the room, bathing his bed in red. He remained silent and still, feigning sleep. They moved with surprising stealth, speaking in soft sighs. He could feel their hesitation. Still he remained. They would need to be closer to for him to catch them. No one trusts a living dragon. It was better to feign defeat in order to realize victory against your enemies. They plucked the courage to move closer. There was creak at his bed post and soft shuffling over his sheets. They hesitated again. Your enemy has to believe in your defeat to entice their pride, to move in closer, to smile and gloat about their false victory. Whispers were within an arm's reach. The hardest part is the wait. He could hear them move across his bed around him. Only then will they abandon their caution. So wait. He could feel them move in closer. Wait. And then they will realize. Feathers of hair brushed his face. They should have killed you in the egg. He opened his eyes.

"FIRE AND BLOOD!" he bellowed seizing the squealing girl on his bed, "You dare to disturb my slumber!" He tossed the girl over his shoulder and spun her about. He looked over at his bed. On it was a chubby babe bouncing on his new found legs.

"Babe-flesh?!" he said. The child grinned delightfully behind his hands. "There is nothing more tasty," he said slowly creeping toward the bed. The child eased over the edge and began to climb to down from the bed."For breakfast," he said "I shall have, babe flesh."

"Run, Laer! Run!" she said over his shoulder. The child took off with all the impish speed he possessed.

"Oh no," he said setting the girl down and catching the chuckling child before he reached the door. He assaulted in kisses and soft bites.

"This child is gamey," he said plopping back into bed.

The girl opened his balcon doors to the east and west and pulled back the curtains. Amber light spilled into his chambers.

"By the gods, Kaela," he said shielding his eyes.

"What?" she said plopping into bed next to him, "You're already awake."

"But not ready to face the light," he said. His eyes adjusted and he looked up into the face of his little sister. Kaela was stringy girl of twelve, tall for her age. She had silky yellow veils of hair that fell over her back and wide green eyes like a summer field. She was as sweet as summer rain.

"What are you doing up this early?" he asked.

"Jaered woke me, told me to get ready,"she said.

"And where is Jaered?" he said.

"In library, I believe," she said. She lay her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around him.

"He's been visiting the library often of late," he said aloud.

"I'd rather him there than bossing me around," she said.

He smiled. Jaered had taken to that of late as well. The babe got up and walked around the bed, shouting. Laer was the baby. A chubby child with a halo of yellow curls about his face.

"How did you get Laer?" he asked.

"I stole him from Septa-"

"Lady Kaela," cut in a sharp voice.

They both got up as Septa Serena soldiered into his chambers. He had always imagined that the septan may have been beautiful once. She would yet be a gently wrinkling rose were it not for the contempt and haughtiness laden the cracks of her face. It was quite unbecoming to become old and surly.

"I have been searching everywhere you. Child? Do you have any idea what I imagined? I almost called guards. Thankfully I looked here first," she said. Anger rankled at him. "Now come, we must begin to get you ready for the day," she said snatching Laer from his bed and grabbing Kaela by the arm. Kaela looked to him for rescue.

"Septa," he said. She stopped with her back to him. She inhaled and turned slowly to face him. Anger rankled him again.

"I will be needing a bath this morning, not my usual rinse. I would like something special. Maybe sandle oil. I hear the ladies are fond of that scent. Also I will be needing large break fast as the day is to be long. A meat pie, with stew and lots meat and vegetation. I would also like tea this morning to keep a clear head."

"Your grace, I am certain your servants and septan will see to your needs. If you would like something special, you need only speak a word-"

"Yes, a word I have spoken to you, Septa," he cut in.

"I am needed for the children," she said.

"I will attend to them," he said with a smile, "while you attend to my break fast."

Kaela snatched away from the Septa and Laer kicked and screamed until she set the child on the ground to wobble-run to arms of his sister.

With a sardonic huff she bowed and marched from the chamber.

"I hate her," said Kaela, "so glad we're getting a new one. Then Laer can deal with her."

"Indeed," he said staring at doorway darkly. "Come," he said grabbing Laer from her, "let's see if any other dragons are awake."

They descended past the chambers of his tower to the rest of the royal apartments and headed to the south past the kitchens and dining hall. Aegon was already awake and half dressed. His coiffed brown curls was scattered about his head and his black eyes looked heavy with fatigue. He had spent the night finishing the invitations he neglected over the season. There was one dragon left to check and even she was awake. Rhaenys was blissfully unaware of their presence in her chambers. Outside they conspired and sent little Laer into her bath chamber. Silently they goaded the babe and Laer jumped into the bath, startling his sister. She grabbed a gossamer, left the tub with Laer in her arms into an ambush of fruit and cheese from her break fast. Laer growled at his siblings for their betrayal and helped fight back from a plate at her bureau.

"It warms my heart to see my children at play," said a soft throaty voice behind them.

She stood in the door with all the causal erectedness of breeding, bedecked in a red gown made of goss and satin, stitched in gold thread. Her deep gold hair glinted in a veil silken twists that fell over her left shoulder. Feathers of curls floated around her forehead and high cheeks while her pale green eyes surveyed the chamber above her straight nose. A measured smiled upon her slender mouth. She was yet the greatest beauty in all the princes and their mother, Queen Cersei Targary.

"Ben Morrow, my Queen," said Aegon with a smirk, "So glad our joy gives you joy. It is a good thing that Canary wanted to play 'wake the dragon' this morning."

Cersei smiled softly before eyeing Kaela with displeasure.

"Kaela, my love, you were supposed to be preparing for the festivities today. You asked if you could dress Laer. Instead you've been playing," said Cersei.

"Laer wouldn't listen and even the-" Kaela began.

"Of course, my love, Laer is a child, a knee babe, he does what he likes. You will be thirteen on your name day. It is time you carry yourself properly. You should have not distracted your elder siblings with these games, my love."

"A welcome distraction, my Queen," said Rhaenys cutting in. Her voice was a warm alto that pitched and cracked in her inflections. Her feet splattered on the floors as she hugged Kaela's shoulders, "It was a delightful bit of sport. And I love sports, they makes a girl Strong."

"And what magnificent strength and wisdom you possess, my dear princess," said Cersei with a smile, "You do so love to sport, with your brothers, with your guards and the squiers, in the castle and in the fields. There is nothing our sweet princess does not know or cannot do. Kaela can only wish to have a portion of your gifts."

"Father loves the sport as well," said Aegon cooly, " I remember we burst into his war chamber one night. He loved 'wake the dragon'. When was the last time you played 'wake the dragon' with Father, my Queen?"

The question hung like a noose in the room. Aegon's smile a shadow of gratuity.

"Must have been a while yet if you have forgot it's delight. You should try it with Father, my Queen. Father loves games."

"Indeed he does," Cersei agreed sweetly, "Well games and sports are all good spirited things best saved for a different morn, without obligations. We all must make sure we do our house and family honor, especially today. Where is Jaered for all this mirth?," asked Cersei.

"He woke me. I think he went to the library, " said Kaela.

"Hm," said Cersei, glacing away, "Well, my sweets, we must suspend the games for the interim. Our house needs us. My sweet prince," said Cersei turning to him, "I understand that Septa Serena had other duties to fulfill for you this morning?"

"Yes, mother," he said, "I traded duties with her. I wished to see to the youngers this morning."

"Such a sweeting," Cersei said, "I am afraid I must take those duties, my sweet prince. I believe in your capabilities save in dressing a young girl."

"It would be no challenge I assure you, m-"

"You cannot," Cersei said firmly. She looked him square in his eyes. "I have word from Maester Pycelle that your father wishes to see you this morning, at the North Face. You should not let your father await your company."

"Aye, mother, I should not," he said.

"So dutiful," Cersei with a small smile, "Well, we must haste for the day. My dears do remember your invitations. My sweet prince, be sure to see to your father right away. Kaela, my love, bring Laer."

Kaela grabbed Laer from Aegon's leg and followed Queen Cersei Targarey from the room. She looked back in the room, at the figure of her brother, his face brooding behind his hair, with a longing in her heart.

"Our beautious Queen," said Rhaenys as he headed for the door, "linger a moment, brother."

He turned back into the room and took a seat across from Aegon tossing cheese into his mouth.

"Do you know what father is meeting you for?" called Rhaneys from the bath between sloshes of water.

"No," he called.

"What?" said Rhaenys.

"No," called Aegon for him.

"I didn't even know he was back from Dragonstone," he said.

"I saw him come in but only because I was already awake at that unholy hour," said Aegon. "So he came in last night?" he asked.

"He came in the night before," said Aegon tossing a piece of cheese in his mouth.

"And told no one?" he asked.

Aegon nodded in affirmation. Rhaenys exited the bath, her body wet and dripping in sight of sun. Rhaenys, was quite similar to Aegon in looks. She was tall like him, deeply tanned, same creamy brown hair. It was said their mother, Elia Targary, had hair black as obsidian and so long that she required maids to carry it off the ground. He figured there had to be some truth to it since Aegon kept his coiffed regularly and Rhaenys' loose, thick coils fell from her forehead past her knees. The sportsmanship she loved so well evident in the rippling muscles over her body and her belly was as hard as any knight's. Aegon got up from his chair to help Rhaenys dress. Though they were happily familiar with each other. He was certain they hadn't consummated their promise just yet.

"Well, there's only a couple of reasons as to why he wants to see you," said Rhae, slipping a loose corset over her shoulders, "And of course, you're going to tell him that you wish to foster with us at Dragonstone."

He could feel their gaze.

"You do want to come with us to Dragonstone?" she asked.

He said nothing again.

"On contrary, I think our brother would rather stay in the Keep," said Aegon slyly.

"Is that what you want?" Rhae asked.

"No, off course not. It's just….I think father expects it,"he said hesitantly.

He stood up suddenly not wanting to be observed any longer.

"He definitely expects me this morning so I should go meet him," he said heading for the door.

"Wait," Rhaenys said.

He stopped and turned back slowly. She walked upon him, slung her arms around his neck. Her water brown eyes looking him square in the eyes.

"He'll give you whatever you want," she said, "Just tell him what you want."

She leaned in and pulled a slow kiss from his lips where her expectations lingered. He backed away and left her chamber, looking at his brother sister in comfort of their company, with a shade of shame over his heart.

A bath and break fast were in his chambers. He made quick work of them both and dressed himself in fine black robes and marching boots since it would be a long day. He grabbed his gloves and sword and left the royal apartments with all haste. Outside the apartments stood Ser Barriston Selmy, straight and patient.

"Your highness," he rumbled with a bow.

"Ben Morrow, Ser Barristan," he said smiling at the old knight, "I understand Father has summons from North Face."

"I am to escort, your highness," Sir Barristan said.

"Well, I should not make my father wait no more than I have," he said.

"Indeed," he said taking off before him.

They headed north through the corridors and halls of the royal suite as servants, maids and cooks and carpenters bustled about them. Then out into the Red Keep and it's vast halls and cavernous chambers. Ser Barristan possessed formidable vigor for his age, and so set speedy march through the castle. At the north entrance, squires and knights bowed on their passing. Ser Barristan took a detour to evade the all the bustle circling the Keep. They eventually found themselves in solace save for a few passersby heading the to Garden of the North Face.

The soft bright musk of the flowers hung in the the breeze. He finally got the steel to ask "Father returned last night?"

"The night before, your highness," said Barristan looking straight ahead.

"From Dragonstone?" he asked the old knight.

"From his travels, your highness," Barristan over his shoulder.

"Did he not travel from Dragonstone," he asked Barriston with a smirk.

"He travels from his destination. Perhaps the young prince should discuss the wanderings of his father, with his father, your highness," Barristan said looking him in the eye.

He nodded. The kingsgaurd were for protecting the king. He should always remember. They eventually passed through the gardens, the air heavy with dew and the smell of flowers. Ser Barristan stopped.

"Here is far enough for me, your highness. I should not intrude upon your time," Barristan said.

"Thank you, Ser," he said clasping his hand.

"My duty," Barristan responded.

And so he left the vigilant and keen old knight on his watch and continued to center of the garden.

He was fond of visiting the garden, usually in the early pre-dawn blue of the morning. The sun was not so high on the east side, bathing the land in a dazzling red. He looked over the walls of garden. They were covered roses purpled and blue-edged. The pollen was heavy, the plant rot faint. High above him stood a white and blue statue in likeness of his mother, Lyanna Targary staring eternally home. And in front of him, at the bottom of the statue in a deep pensive silence stood his father, Rhaegar Targary. Standing behind his father he remarked, not for the first time, the striking difference between him and his father. He had to admit with reluctance, that he, Aerick Targary, had to be oddest of Rhaegar's heirs. Yet everyone insisted he looked most like their father. He could not see it. Where his father was a man unusual height, he was quickly becoming a man of average height. His father's hair was straight and pale as amber flames that seemed to glow, where his hair was a curly bundle the color of smoke. His father's eyes were glowing violets that regarded him closely and he usually lowered his black eyes in hesitation. He silently walked forward to the statue and placed some of the roses at the bottom.

"How fare you this morrow, Aerick?" he said. His voice was a gentle bass that disarming and demanding at the same time.

"I am well, father," Aerick said, "How fare you, father?"

Rhaegar nodded and said, "Well, my son. Well."

"How did you find Dragonstone?" Aerick asked.

"The old fort keeps," Rhaegar said. Rhaegar turned, his eyes glowing the light, "Have you given thought to what we spoke last we met?"

"I have," he said looking down,"and I will do as you wish. I will take Summerhall."

"Good," Rhaegar said.

An expectant silence hung between them.

"And?" Rhaegar asked looking away.

"I wish to foster another year," Aerick said finally.

"You wish to foster another year?" said Rhaegar eyeing.

"I do," Aerick affirmed.

Rhaegar knotted his brow at him.

"If I am to restore Summerhall for you, I need to plan, find the best carpenters, builders-"

"How will fostering another year assist in this? You could have your pick of the finest carpenters and builders and planners in King's Landing. I had already commissioned a maester from-"

"I wish to do it myself," Aerick cut in, "Forgive me, Father. I wish to do it myself rather than have it told to me. I want to take part in every part restoring Summerhall and it's titles. From mind to stones."

His father gave him a long level gaze. He looked above them and a small smile appeared on his face.

"I was rather hoping for an engagement announcement," said Rhaegar walking to the dark side of the garden, "Especially since the ladies of the Riverlands are quite lovely."

Aerik's jaw tightened as he followed slowly behind his father.

"Where is it you wish to foster?" Rhaegar said sifting through the roses, "Dragonstone, I imagine."

"Winterfell," Aerick answered.

Rhaegar paused. "Winterfell?" he said over his shoulder.

"Yes," Aerick said.

"You want to plan a holdfast in the North?" Rhaegar said.

"Yes. It houses the greatest structure on all the princies. The Wall has stood for over a thousands years. Built by men, the First Men, Bran the Builder. He also built Winterfell. I wish the study the structures. To live in them. To bring some of the north back south."

His father looked away, staring into nothing. It was a look he had seen upon his father's since he was a babe. It was look that crossed his face often. It bothered him. His gaze used to clear and determined. Now it seemed tired and confused.

"Yes, The Wall," Rhaegar said after a time, "The last stand between the world and the beyond. There hasn't been a King or Queen on the wall for over two hundred years."

A muddled silence fell between.

"Perhaps it is yet a good thing that you ask this," Rhaegar said turning his head away as if speaking to someone else. He walked around the other side of the statue toward the light and set flowers at it's feet as Aerick followed.

"Go to the Wall. See it, learn it. Tell me how it stands," he said rising to his feet, "I wish to know how the primary defense of the realm fares. I grant you another turn to foster."

"Thank you, father," Aerick said a measured smile.

"Do not. I only grant you leave of the Keep, I give nowhere to foster. It is not my decision to host you at Winterfell," Rhaegar said with a skeptical look, "Prince Eddard Stark and I brothers in marriage, not in bond. In troth, he despises me. Which is why I never asked to send you there."

Aerick stood silent but determined. Rhaegar smiled at him.

"You've been making that face since you were a babe. Your mother made the same face. Very well, may the Seven be with you on your journey to Winterfell. But I do have a condition," Rhaegar said.

"Name it," Aerick said.

"You must announce your engagement on your return," Rhaegar said.

Aerick locked his jaw.

"I kept nothing from you or your brother and sister and I will not. You must make the right match, for the sake of our house. For the sake of the realm. It just a smart match and lasting one. And I expect in this year away for you to make it. So I strongly suggest that you make good inspection during the festivities in the coming weeks. The ladies will not gathered before you again until your own wedding and name day. Next year."

And that was the end of it. A final silence full of expectation was between them.

"Thank you, father," Aerick said finally.

"I deny you nothing, Aerick," Rhaegar said looking up.

Deny nothing, yes, Aerick thought, but expect everything. He turned back to the castle.

"Aerick," Rhaegar called to him.

"Yes, father?" Aerick answered.

"How long has it been since you have been to Summerhall?" Rhaegar asked.

"I have not been since I but nine," Aerick said.

"I know I have never sent you there as I did Aegon and Rhaenys. But why did you never go again?"

"I could not sleep when I was there."

"Night terrors as a child?"

"Day terrors too," Aerick said, bowed and turned away unaware that his father turned eyeing his son anew.

 _Thank you for reading._

 _Uitori_

Author's Note: This has been edited from the first post. I have decided to changes some elements of the character's names and description just to satisfy my creative license. Below is pronunciation guide, again just for my creative license. I hope you have enjoyed this. Please leave your comments and constructive criticism below. Thank you.

Rhaenys: RAY-niss

Aegon: AY-gone

Aerick: AY-rick

Kaela:KAY-la

Jaered:JAY-red

Laer: LAIR


	2. Princes

_The entirety of A Song of Ice and Fire and Game of Thrones is creation of George RR Martin and and D.B. and product of HBO. This story is a unique fictional derivative of the original work written by an ASOIAF/GOT enthusiast._

Rated: M

Rhaegar's Lost Song

Princes

Aerick was not one to fuss. He was not fickle or insistent. Yet he had been nothing but fussy, fickle and insistent the past week. He lacked the refinery of fashion that Aegon had. He would never tell a soul, not even Rhae, that Aegon planned and even sewn some his own robes. Aerick half considered asking Aegon to help him but that would lead to questions he didn't want to answer.

His father name day fell during the season of the Princies Turn. The annual gathering of the Seven Princeships and Minors and commoners and foreigners to foster amity throughout the realm. An occasion for pomp, tourneys, match-making and mirth. But more importantly, for the seven princes to reaffirm their loyalty to their king. It would be here that Prince Aerick would petition his uncle, Warden of the North, Prince of Winterfell, Eddard Stark to foster. And ever since he was granted leave, a slow panic began to rise in him.

At first he was just torn between whether to wear black or rose blue. Not grey, it presumed too much. Then he began to wonder whether he should present a gift? For his name day? Which had but passed. No. Name days are trifle things for men. Not but a reason to drink. A gift for his cousin then? Robert Stark. But he knew nothing of him. then for Sansa Stark? She was girl, girls like pretty things. It shouldn't be hard to find something pretty in King's Landing's Flower district. But practical, Northerners were practical above all. So Aerick had three of the finest silk cloaks made in black, grey and rose blue for the ladies of Winterfell. Then he felt that was pandering, and not what a man, especially a prince of the realm, does. And so the week past like this. He was able to dodge the keen eye of Rhae since she and Aegon had made a quick excursion to Dragonstone. But poor Canary had often left his chambers sullen as he sent her away to let himself think. He attended meetings with his father as he was usually did but they pulled further from the Keep and his preparation. And thankfully, he hadn't had any run-ins with his mother in law. He did run into his younger brother Jaered in the library one morning.

The west long room had become a second bed chamber for his brother. Aerick had gone there get the Book of Houses to make sure he didn't miss important names in the days to come. On his way out he spotted his golden hair bent over open books and scattered scrolls. He eased into to room quietly, curious as to what kept him occupied the past month. Jaered looked up.

"Ben Morrow, brother," said Aerik with a smile.

"To you as well, brother," said Jared, reclining with a smile, "How fares our Prince of King's Landing this morning?"

"I am a bit…confounded this morning," Aerick answered.

"And so rightfully, seek the wisdom of men wiser than us," Jaered said nodding at the tome in his hand.

"Yes," he said, "I want to be sure to be of no offense in the fort night to come."

"I suppose the Maester's exercises are not quite effective are they?" said Jaered.

"No, I'm just bad with names," Aerick said smiling. Jaered grined. He and Kaela could have been twins. He had the same veils of gold about his head, same green eyes.

"I suppose you have father's gift prepared?" Jaered asked.

"Yes," Aerick answered.

"…And?" Jaered asked.

"…I hope it will cause no offense," Aerick said.

"Well, now, I have to know what it is," Jaered said siting up.

"It's nothing," Aerick said.

"It's not nothing. Not from you," Jaered said.

"Well.." Aerick said stepping closer, "it's a song."

"A song?" Jaered echoed with a surprised look.

"Yes," he said.

"And you composed it?" Jaered pressed.

"Yes….and," Aerick said stepping closer, "I am going to sing it."

Silence. Then Jaered's chuckling.

"Forgive me, my Prince," he said between chuckles.

"I have been practicing," Aerick said with bite.

"I'm sure hehehe but no need to worry. Father will cherish anything you give him. You could give father bottled Winds of Eyrie and he'd wear it around his neck," Jaered said gathering up his scattered scrolls. Aerik decided to ignore his comment.

"What are you getting father?," Aerick asked.

Jaered stopped and looked at him. His mother's glittering guarded eyes suddenly peering out Jaered's face.

"I bought him something, of course," Jaered said returning his scrolls and books, "An utterly exquisite and rare old artefact foraged from the intrepid scavenges of old Valeryia. It was.." Jared said pausing, "..an extraordinary find."

And there it was. The wall between him and Jaered. Aerick bid his brother well for the rest of day and left with guilt washing him anew. And Jared quietly cursed as he burned his scrolls of music.

He poured over the book of houses, great and small, making sure he knew every detail of Starks, trying paint a portrait of them in his mind. Suddenly it was the third day of the Turn, the Starks hadn't arrived. He had been sweltering in black for four days in the wait. Today it would be the red robes instead. And rather post himself at the North Gate, he would roam a while before heading to the out banks of make-town. He dressed but didn't bother with the proper fastenings, ties and fittings. In fact he would wear his vest open since it was far too hot. He put on his new marching boots, grabbed his gloves and sword and made to leave. Much to his surprise, it was Prince Oberyn Martell who stood outside at the foot of his stair. He looked him over with a grin of approval.

"Prince Oberyn," Aerick said, clasping his arm and patting his back, "I figured surely your grace would be with the Crown Prince and Princess."

"I cannot seem to find the Crown Prince and Princess. I can only assume they do not wish to be found. So I came seeking the company of his grace, the Prince of King's Landing. Perhaps, your grace, knows where they might be?" said Oberyn.

"I am afraid your grace is correct, they do not wish to be found," he said smiling.

"Haha, they are honest Dornishmen," Oberyn said looking into to the distance, "well, I would love to accompany you, your grace, as long as we can dispense of formalities?"

"It would be my pleasure, Oberyn," said Aerick as they started off.

"How did you relieve Ser Barristan? He only follows the command of the King," asked Aerick.

"I may have sung a song about the King calling his guard and I promised to personally escort and guard you with my life," he said his black eyes glittering with mischief, "It's half true."

"Ser Barristan will not love you for it," said Aerick shaking his head.

"What does he love beyond duty?" Oberyn said flashing a roguish smile at group of young ladies passing by, "speaking of love. I understand that you still have not made an engagement."

Aerick straightened himself. "No."

"Truly? After 3 years in the Riverlands?" pressed Oberyn.

Aerick looked resolutely ahead.

"What's the matter couldn't find a girl as pretty as you?" Oberyn said grinning.

"The ladies of the Riverlands were quite appealing," Aerick said.

"Just not to your cock," Oberyn quipped, "then perhaps you are looking for a young lad?"

Aerick laughed.

"You can confide in me, Aerick," said Oberyn, "you are like my nephew as well. I know the prejudices of the rest of the realm. We don't have such things in Dorne."

"It's not that either," said Aerick.

"Forgive me, my Prince. I simply ask out of concern. The world should be like the soft thighs of a lover, especially for the most desirable bachelor in all the realm. You should roaming the country. Returning to the Keep at unholy hours. Tying your name to to scandalous affairs for the old lords and ladies to whisper in court."

"As being the Bastard Prince isn't scandalous enough?" said Aerick peering up at him.

They stopped.

"Especially because you're the Bastard Prince," said Oberyn with a measure of levity.

They continued.

"These curly fingered nobles scandalized you anyhow. If I were you, I'd make every lord, lady, maester and septan quiver at my very sight. I'd leave a little bastard in all their daughters, turn maids against their ladies, gild the septans and fuck their sons for good measure."

Aerick grinned and shook his head. Oberyn stopped him and looked at him.

"If you seek their approval, you'll never have it. You are a Prince. A Dragon Prince. The Prince of King's Landing. You don't need their approval, just their obedience. It took time for Aegon and Rhaenys to learn it as well. But I suppose your circumstances are different from theirs."

They walked into the main roads of the make-town in silence. They returned curtsy's and blushes with honorable nods. Oberyn couldn't resist the suggestive wiggle of his brows. After a time Aerick let himself get lost in the make-town. The roads were paved from years of use in each of the four directions to ease arrival of nobles from all over the Turn was held in the abandoned Hold of Dragons. The arena hosted the competitions and around it temporary tent houses, shops and forts were erected to house the nobility, the merchants and common while the royal family occupied the old chambers that once belonged the old dragon riders before them. It was nestled in hilly plains east of King's Landing where ground faded from short grass to the brown bare ground. The arena was old. It's former polished columns and walls had dulled and cracked, bursting with moss, weeds and leaves. There were no trees or forests for miles yet. Only the sky bright and blue above them and the ground beneath their feet and a beckoning breeze. The home of dragons.

"And what bold flower is this?" came Oberyn's fluttering bass through his reverie. Aerick looked up.

As they came upon a bridge on there was a small crowd gathered on the road west below them. They looked down at a gathering of children, noble and common alike, giggling like a nest hatchlings birds, around a young woman buying poppets and joust sticks and sweets for the lot of them.

"Must be Margery of House Tyrell," Aerick said stepping closer to the side of the bridge.

"You know her?" said Oberyn following.

"I know her reputation," Aerick said, "The Tyrells are quite generous. There is almost no poverty in Highgarden. And those that are poor yet want for nothing. All their needs are met through charity. It is said Margery Tyrell has a particularly kind heart. She sends goods to those in need as far as Old Town. She has the people in her heart and the heart of the people."

"Sounds like you know more than her reputation," said Oberyn grinning.

"I have never crossed paths with her, strangely enough. I would like to meet her. She sounds like a sweet soul," Aerick said.

"Yes," Oberyn hissed, leaning on the side, "As sweet as a hunter baiting his trap."

"And what will she do with the children? Form an army? Will they carry maypoles of flowers?," Aerick jested.

"You have it wrong, my young Prince. The children are the bait, you are the catch and she is the trap," Oberyn said pointing at the crowd.

Aerick looked down and there she stood. Too far to see clearly but standing erect, brown hair in the wind, the sun kissing the skin of her shoulders and back.

They kept on the North fences when a question finally flew from his lips.

"What do you know of my uncle?" Aerick said.

"Well, he is tall, devilish, wandering dark Prince from the South. A fierce and well travelled warrior and exceptional lover-" Oberyn began.

"Not you, Seven Hells," said Aerick.

"Well which one, if not me?" Oberyn said.

"The Prince of Winterfell, Eddard of House Stark," Aerick said.

"What could you possibly not know of your uncle that you want to know?" he said.

"I only know what I have read in books and histories," Aerick said, "I know his actions, not the man."

"A man is his actions," Oberyn said simply.

"And still I know nothing," Aerick said, "He began as traitorous rebel and ended as loyal Prince of the Realm. You have crossed paths with him. What kind of man is he?"

Oberyn peered down at him.

"I only crossed paths with the Prince of Winterfell thrice in my life," Oberyn said walking on, "The first time, I noticed how very different young Lord Eddard was from his brother, Brandon Stark. Brandon was very much the Wild Wolf of the pack. We sparred fiercely from time to time needing to prove if ice and pierce the sun. Haha. But Eddard was rather paled-haired and quiet. The Silent Wolf. I didn't read weakness in him but a kind of…reluctance. The next time we crossed paths he had befriended the bold stag, lord of his house, Robert Baratheon. There was feast in Dayne's halls and he was love-struck under a shooting star called Ashara Dayne. He was just as silent and reluctant so she had to ask him to dance. But he did wait on her the rest of week. Ever at her side. The last time I crossed paths with Eddard Stark was at you and your mother's coronation feast. There were many displeased faces at the feast but none looked so distinguishable as the face of the Queen's brother. I can tell you verily he was a different man, the dire wolf in the room. War changes men, and the rebellion stole that reluctance Eddard Stark once had. His silence had the piercing edge of spikes. His gaze was cold and unforgiving. He did not eat, or drink or speak. At least not to anyone but the Queen and the lady that asked him to dance. But there was something wrong in that dance with the Queen. As you know, Queen Lyanna Targary died that very night."

"Why does he hate father?" Aerick asked.

"For the same reasons I do," Oberyn said facing Aerick, "For what he did to my sister, to my family."

Aerick let the truth sink into him.

"I won't lie to you, my Prince. I smile, but there have been plenty a night of dreaming my spear through the King's chest for abandoning my sister to the whims of a madman… in the middle of a war ….and nearly killing his children."

Aerick looked away but Oberyn placed his hand on his shoulder, "This does not extend to you. You were babe. Or even your mother, she was younger than you when she crossed paths with the King. Your father was young at time but not so young to be so foolish."

They walked again in silence.

"I suppose the Prince of Winterfell has more reason than I despise the King. House Stark was nearly wiped out when the rebellion ceased. I would choke on the word brother as well. If meeting your uncle worries you, I tell you not worry," Oberyn said looking him in the eye, "He may hate you, for you do look very much like the King. But don't worry, he's always been a bore anyway."

Aerick laughed with Oberyn as they continued to the north gate.

"One thing I can tell you surely," Oberyn said looking over the hilly plains, "He named is eldest son after his best friend, Robert Baratheon."

 _Thank you for reading._

 _Uitori._

Author's Note: So keep myself writing I'm going to try to write the parts I really want to write and as holes and gaps appear go back and write those in since writing in order takes more time. So if things seem off or skipped just know that I probably skipped a part I was having a hard time formulating and will return to as needed. This may be a bad idea but I'm going to try it. So it's not necessarily chapter 2 but the next part published. Please leave your concrit below. Thank you.


End file.
